I Confess... Pt. 01

*This is the first part in a new series. It starts off fairly consensual but I promise it won't stay that way. Please leave feedback if you enjoy it.

Best wishes.

Thanks to Graymangazer for proof reading and offering advice.

Best wishes, Penny.

*****

31st Nov

Dear diary

I shouldn't be writing this down, but feel compelled to do so. Heaven forbid my husband James finds it and reads it. If he does it will spell the end of our marriage without a doubt. I dread to think what that will mean for me and the kids. Even so, I must write it down, only then will it seem real. If I record all of the events that have happened so far then maybe I can figure out a solution to resolve the situation I now find myself in.

When and where did it all start? Hmmm that's an easy one. I can pinpoint that moment exactly.

August 25th. That's when, as for where, Blancaster, a crappy Northern hillside town. Even more exactly - waiting for the bus to the train station to leave the crappy little Northern Hillside town.

James and I had booked a week with the kids there in some pokey little cottage. Actually, this might have been quite a nice get away except for two things; the typical English Summer, i.e. raining all week, and secondly that the car broke down when we were there, meaning we couldn't even go for days out. Morecambe was just a short drive away, beaches, funfairs, things to do for the kids. But no, we were trapped in a 2 bedroomed cottage. Five days, stuck with three kids and James my husband, and by Friday we'd all developed an unhealthy dose of cabin fever. Everything James said, annoyed me and vice versa. We sniped and bitched, snapped and moaned even when someone said something as innocuous as pass the milk over breakfast. The town consisted of one road with a Co-op and a few touristy shops, and a kids playground. A kids playground that my three were bored with after the first wet afternoon we arrived. Trust me the grey clouds hanging over Blancaster were joined by a few grey clouds hanging over our heads in that cottage. So, by the end of the week we were more than ready to de-camp and head for home. Fortunately the car had been repaired and was ready for the long trip back down the M6. However to add insult to injury it had only cost us the price of the whole holiday for the repairs to be made, which didn't improve James' mood any further.

As a final 'up yours' the weather had perked up, and as we packed the car, the sun had returned from its week in France or wherever it had been and shone brilliantly in the sky. Unprepared for this as I was, I had dressed for the rain in a dirty T shirt, one of James' thick fleecey jumpers and black jeans. I was also sporting underwear I'd definitely worn before that week - since I hadn't been able to do any washing and hadn't packed enough. I broke into a sweat carting bags into the car while my kids bickered and argued until they were all finally belted into place. James muttered something to me along the lines of see you when you get back, and I kissed the kids goodbye. You see dear diary, we'd packed so much crap into the car, there wasn't any room for me to sit. We only had a saloon rather than one of those big minibus style people carriers, so fitting all five of us was a struggle at the best of times, but with all the holiday baggage poor little old me had to catch the train. Waving cheerfully and being waved back to by the kids I smiled inwardly at the thought of a few hours of peace, quiet and solitude. No kids, no husband, nothing but me, my book and my long train journey home. Bliss.

I posted the keys for the holiday cottage through the letterbox and made my way down the path through a sodden boggy field that was a shortcut onto the main street. There, I had to catch a bus to the train station. This, dear diary, is where it all started.

I'd been waiting at the bus stop for a good ten minutes when some old dear approached me and told me that the buses only ran every two hours on a Friday. Of course they fucking do I thought. 'What time's the next one due?" I enquired.

"Well you've just missed the twenty past eleven so it won't be till twenty past one." she replied in a doddery but well meaning way.

The sun beat down on me, and I was sweating and uncomfortable and the thought of sitting here for another two hours didn't exactly improve my mood. Oh well, at least I'm not stuck in a traffic jam with three kids jabbing each other and arguing over whose go it is on the Nintendo what's it.

I headed off to a cafe, which I'd seen during the week. Closed. For fuck's sake. Eventually I settled on the Co-op and bought a can of Fanta. Mooching round the shop killed a few minutes but before long I was back sitting on the wall beside the bus stop waiting for the world's worst bus service.

Twenty or so minutes later some guy turns up and sits down next to me. We smiled an acknowledgement and I continued with my book. I could sense he was looking at me but didn't feel like engaging in conversation. I felt a mess, probably looked a mess, and had had it just about up to here, with this town and its inhabitants. Every now and again, some local would walk past and my fellow traveller would greet them, usually by name, and strike up a bit of a conversation.

After the 5th or 6th time this happened, I almost shouted.

"Do you know everyone in this village then?"

"Well not everyone." he replied. "I don't know you do I?" He smiled rather disarmingly. The edges of his mouth curled up in an endearing manner.

"I'm just a tourist." I said. "Leaving now actually." I pointed to my rucksack on the floor, as evidence.

"That's a shame." He said. "I could show you around."

I laughed derisively.

"What, the Co-op, the old man's pub, the cafe that's closed, along with the post-office and the telephone box that smells of piss."

He laughed.

"So you've seen all the sights then."

I laughed along with him.

"Yep, hell of a town you have here." I added.

We chatted amiably for a while, I explained my situation, having spent a dreadful week here I poured out my soul, and he listened attentively. He had dark hazel eyes with a mischievous twinkle about them, and gazed intently into mine as I spoke. He was younger than me, didn't have any kids, or a wife, and probably still knew what it was to have fun at a weekend.

He told me of the recent scandal at the bakery, where the baker's wife had run off with the milkman, which would he said, keep the gossip mongers going for a good few weeks, along with various other 'village secrets.' As he told me about growing up in the village and everyone getting to know each others' business and some of the sordid secrets he was privy to, I found myself subconsciously twirling my hair in my fingers and thinking about how good looking he was. When I realised what I was doing I blushed. I tried to steer the subject back to buses and trains rather than infidelity. He didn't seem to register my sudden change of topic, and we carried on as before in a comfortable banter about life in general. I shared my stories of meeting James at the first year of Uni, dropping out when I became pregnant and going on to have two more kids. Dan seemed genuinely interested, and laughed enthusiastically at my anecdotes without seeming insincere. Time passed quickly and when I next looked at my watch I realised it was just under half an hour before the bus was due.

Dan checked his watch too.

"That's a shame he said, I could talk to you for hours."

I blushed again. Was he flirting? I was so out of touch with dating I'd no idea. Having gone to an all girl's school till I was 18 I was woefully inexperienced with boys. Before I met James at University I'd had precisely one boyfriend - if you could call him that, I'd met Luke a year before James and been on about three dates before I ran a mile when he tried to put his hand up my top in the cinema, literally running out of the cinema.

"I bet there's one sight you missed on the tourist trail around here?"

"Oh yeah where's that?"

"Come with me I'll show you."

"Do we have time," I replied nervously. I didn't want to miss this bus, James would think I was doing it on purpose.

"Yeah it's two minutes walk."

"Seriously?" I said disbelievingly.

He made the follow me gesture with his fore finger, beckoning me to follow him.

I picked up my rucksack and, slightly intrigued, followed him a short way up the main high street. Alongside a thick hedge Dan sidestepped left and disappeared into a narrow, almost invisible, pathway. The branches of the hedge were overgrown and I had to brush them aside with my hands to avoid being scratched in the face.

"How much further?" I complained.

"Nearly there," he said.

The path opened out into a little square tumbledown courtyard. In the centre was a dirty looking mattress, around it a sofa with its guts spewing out, a weather worn deck chair and an old recliner that had seen better days. The ground was littered with empty plastic cider bottles, cans, crisp packets and other debris. Something under my foot squelched and I lifted my boot to see what appeared to be a condom. Ewww.

I couldn't understand why Dan had brought me here, surely this couldn't be it?

"What is this place?"

"This is the Piazza de fornication." He said in a mock Italian accent.

"What?" I laughed.

"This is a sacred place." He put on a dramatic accent. "It was here five years ago, nearly to this very day, that I Daniel J Emberton lost my virginity."

"You're kidding? Here?" I was shocked. I laughed self consciously. "It's horrendous. Don't tell me you used that stinking mattress?"

He pretended to look offended. "Blasphemy! How dare you! That stained mattress has been saviour for the majority of the virgins in this town. I've told you already that everyone knows everybody else. There's no privacy in this town at all. How then can a young man, and the love of his life eschew the spying eyes of such a village. I tell you, there's only one way. 'The mattress in the Piazza del fornication' (he said it again in his corny Italian accent). As we came in, I don't suppose you noticed, but there was a sign just outside. When it's turned one way it means that someone's in here, and if it's turned the other it's free to use. Of course some of the town's residents like an audience and will turn it to show 'welcome' even while they're at it. In this town It's a rite of passage to lose your virginity on that mattress.

"So who was the lucky girl that plucked your cherry?" I asked

"You've already met her, she was the blonde who said a frosty hello while we were standing waiting at the bus stop."

I wracked my brain. I did vaguely recollect a tall blonde woman who greeted Dan and walked on, but didn't take much notice.

"So... not on cordial terms anymore?"

"Not really, no." He flashed that toothy grin again, and I felt my throat tighten slightly.

"I must be missing something, why on earth would you want to do it out in the open in this sordid little bombed out shithole?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't knock it till you try it. Every time I come here I get a wang-on just from the memories."

I laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You saying wang-on in your northern accent." I replied

Dan stared meaningfully at me, and in one brief moment he closed the distance between us and wrapped an arm around my neck, drawing me towards him. His mouth sought mine and he kissed me passionately on the lips. I resisted and tried to push him away.

"Nnnnnn" I tried to form the words but my lips were smothered with his own.

He kissed me again, and again, his lips opened and his tongue probed my mouth.

I've never liked french kissing, and hadn't kissed James this way in years, but I felt a thrill as his tongue pierced me, invading my mouth and I relented, letting him probe my mouth. I felt the prominent bulge in his crotch press into my abdomen.

Time seemed to suspend as we smooched like teenagers but eventually he broke away. My heart was racing inside my chest, and I felt tingly all over.

"This is wrong." I uttered.

"Just from that one kiss I can tell you're quite submissive in bed?" He said authoritatively.

"H..H.How?" I questioned.

"Do you do what James asks of you in the bedroom?"

"We don't really have sex anymore." I admitted. I'd always been inexperienced in the ways of sex, and James never really seemed all that interested, plus with three kids under ten we were often too exhausted. Sometimes though, it did often amaze me how we'd had three kids. Our sex life was extremely routine and predictable. James on top, me underneath, a frantic bit of thrusting and all over in a few minutes.

"Now that's a shame, no not a shame, a crime. I bet underneath all those clothes you've got a fantastic body."

I blushed crimson.

"Take your top off." He ordered.

"What... We need to get back for the bus." I said evasively.

He stepped towards me and I thought for one second he was going to hit me. His eyes flashed with menace. Instead though, he grabbed the hem of the baggy fleece and hoiked it up around me. I tried to fold my arms to stop him but he tickled my sides causing me to lose my grip, and in that instant he pulled the voluminous garment, and the T shirt beneath it over my head, leaving me standing before him in my two day old sweaty pink bra.

He wolf whistled.

"Oh my, I was right you are hiding something special. My god your tits are fantastic."

I crossed my arms in an attempt to hide my modesty, but only succeeded in pushing my boobs out further creating a wonder bra effect.

"RIght, you've had your fun, now give me my top back, so we can catch the bus."

He threw my top to the ground.

"Take the bra off."

"No." I countered.

"When was the last time you've been topless in public?"

I thought back. I'd never been topless in public.

He read my mind. "You haven't have you? And how old are you? Twenty Eight?"

"Don't you realise life is passing you by. You've got the perfect chance now to forget about your kids, husband, in fact all of those responsibilities and just say fuck it all and do what makes you happy."

"You mean what makes you happy," I retorted.

"No, Penny, you, you're living in some stale suburban coma of a life, where you get up, attend to your kids, pack them off to school, then wait for them to come home so you can cook their dinners, give them baths get them ready for the next day of the same bloody thing. I bet at weekends if you're feeling frisky you shop at Sainsbury's instead of Asda and Aldi. Did you ever have a spark with James when you were first going out, wouldn't you like to recapture some of that excitement?"

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

"Take it off."

Reluctantly I unclasped my bra and held it out to him, covering my boobs with my free arm.

I shivered, even in the warmth of the day.

That's better, now show me those luscious, incredible, erotic mounds of gorgeous lady flesh.

His charming smile had returned.

I complied dropping my arm.

He moved in swiftly ducking down to lick, suck and kiss my nipples, alternating from one to the other. Deep down I felt my sex begin to get wet. I grabbed his head and ran my fingers through his thick brown locks. pressing his head harder into my bosom.

"Mmmmm" I mewed biting my lip for fear of being too loud.

He extricated himself from my grasp and dropped to his knees in front of me.

"Unbutton those jeans and lower them to your ankles." He requested

"Uh-Uh" I shook my head.

"I'm on my knees begging you Penny. Has James ever begged to lick your pussy?"

I shook my head again. James had never licked my pussy, that wasn't in his repertoire.

"Do it. Unbutton your jeans and I'll beg to eat your pussy out."

My heart thumped in my chest now. This was so wrong. But it wasn't as if James could ever find out.

"Please Penny, please let me lick your beautiful pussy. Let me stick my tongue deep inside you and taste your delicious sex."

Indecision clouded my thoughts.

"Penny, I'm begging you, pleading with you, I need to taste your sweet, sweet sexy pussy."

I relented. Unbuttoning the jeans I lowered them down over my knees. Instantly he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me towards him. His tongue roved over my knickers, as his fingers dug into my soft bum. A fire lit my cheeks as I realised that my scruffy underwear was the ones I'd worn yesterday and possibly the day before. "I'm sorry for the ..." Absurdly I started to apologise, for my dirty knickers. But Dan didn't seem to care. I squirmed as his tongue probed the V of my knickers pushing the material into my wet hole. It took all of my willpower not to yell out and keep silent as his tongue molested me, rubbing my clitoris furiously around and around, then in broad abrasive strokes up and down.

I let out a gasp of disapproval as he yanked my knickers down, and resumed tongue fucking me some more. My sex swelled and I found myself riding a tidal wave of pure erotic pleasure as I began to orgasm as his mouth enveloped my labia. So intense was the pleasure that I pushed my fingers down onto his head to push him away, but he persisted, licking me ever more fervently until the tingling abated and then began to swell again. I had never experienced anything quite like it.

"Oh my gosh," I murmured in some kind of delirious rapture. I actually felt physically weak at the knees.

Then quite suddenly Dan stood up and lip locked his face onto my own. I immediately caught the scent of my own feminine erotic juices as his tongue once again penetrated my mouth.

I'd never tasted myself before, and it came as a shock breathing in and tasting my own musky scent. I felt completely overwhelmed, and tried to back away, but his firm grip locked me in place. I could feel his stiff member poking urgently into me through the fabric of his trousers as one of his hands grabbed a handful of my bottom and the other wrapped around my neck and pulled me into him.

I felt slightly faint and was relieved when Dan loosened his grip on me and stepped back.

I was dismayed to see him begin to unbutton his trousers.

"I don't think ..." I started,

"You don't think what." He said.

By now his trousers were open at the crotch and the bulge of his erect member tented his boxers.

"Come on don't be shy, come here and unleash my cock."

I cowered in response, afraid to move. I knew this was completely wrong. James would never forgive me, but at the same time, I'd just experienced the most delightful orgasm of my entire life. Dan responded by dropping his boxers, so his trousers and underwear rested around his knees. I stared at his cock. It was bigger than James' the only one I had to act as a comparison, both thicker and longer. I gulped inwardly.

"Please..." I began.

Dan lurched towards me.

He whispered harshly into my ear.

"Get on your knees on the mattress."

I had no intention of ever getting on that filthy stained mattress, but his commanding presence left me feeling scared and a little breathless.

Nevertheless I shook my head.

He responded by taking my hand and guiding it to the erect phallus between his legs, forcing me to caress it with my fingertips.

He groaned appreciatively.

I stroked him tenderly some more, staring intently down at my fingers which he let free of his grip. I continued to pleasure him now without any coercion, my fingers gliding up and down that magnificent pole. In the darkest recess of my mind I wondered what it would be like to have that cock inside me, but quickly brushed the thought from my mind.

"Kneel on the mattress." He ordered, pushing forward with his body to guide me over to the dirty altar of fucking.

I shook my head again disobediently.

He stared into my eyes, and I averted my gaze from his.